


Oblivious, In Denial, and Dangerous

by TheProphetMich



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Dib & Zim Friendship (Invader Zim), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 08:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProphetMich/pseuds/TheProphetMich
Summary: Zim has an existential crisis after he realizes he doomed his Tallest. Dib of all people helps him cope with his loss and figure out where to go from there.(Post Enter the Florpus.)





	Oblivious, In Denial, and Dangerous

When the Tallest finally answered the call, Zim barely noticed their odd appearance. That is to say, he did notice the fire and their puppet-like textures and their running in circles. It just didn’t strike him as important in light of what was in his hand.

“My Tallest,” Zim called over their screams. “I am pleased to report my plan was a success and I now have Dib’s puppy-clown thing, which was my plan all along. Does this please you?”

Their screams persisted. Their senseless— no, the Tallest would never do anything senseless. Their senseFUL running in circles persisted. As did the fire and the puppet textures and all the other things until the feed cut out, leaving the Irken Armada symbol bathed in colored bars.

“That sounded like a yes to me,” Zim announced. He sent a silly face GIR’s way even as a chill ran up his spine. The Tallest hadn’t scolded him. Everything was normal.

The colored bars lingered, but GIR changed the channel before Zim could dwell on them too much. He busied himself with packing away the rejected phase two projects, not even sure why he was saving them. The Tallest didn’t want Earth. What was the point of taking it?

A few hours passed. GIR left the TV unattended in favor of chasing the pug-scum around the house, so Zim curled into the couch and switched to the channel he used to transmit to his Tallest. The bars remained.

“Computer. What do these colors mean?”

“It appears the Tallest are permanently off the air.”

Zim’s eyes shot wide. “What do you mean permanently?”

“Permanently means in a way that lasts or remains unchanged—“

Zim jumped onto the couch. “I know what permanently means!” He paced along the cushions. “Irken signals are the strongest in the universe. What could possibly interfere with one?” Unless, of course, his Tallest were the ones disrupting it. But that was nonsense. He’d lost their respect, yes, but they wouldn’t just cut him off without warning.

The computer groaned. “Perhaps It has something to do with the Florpus hole you left in their path.”

Zim paused, a knot forming in his throat. The Tallest wouldn’t be outsmarted by something as stupid as a Florpus, but. “Playback my last communication with them.”

The colored bars were replaced with the fire and the screaming and the puppet skin of the Tallest. Zim examined the scene carefully, his brain finally registering the out-of-ordinary details as out-of-ordinary. “Yup. They’re definitely inside a Florpus hole. How do I get them out?”

“You don’t,” the computer said. “Matter can only survive a short time inside a Florpus before the violent collisions of nearby realities tear it apart. They’re dead.”

The colored bars returned to the screen. Zim blinked. “But. The almighty Tallest can survive anything.”

“No, they can’t.”

“Yes, they can.”

“No, they can’t.”

Zim threw the remote. “Yes, they can!” He collapsed into the cushions. They couldn’t be dead. No, they were just... mad at Zim for teleporting the Earth to them. He could apologize. He could earn their trust back.

But the screen. Zim stared at it. “Playback all recorded conversations with the Tallest.” Research. If he could find out where he went wrong, when exactly he lost their respect, he could fix it.

The first clip was short, only about thirty seconds. The Tallest were quiet, mostly, as Zim had done most of the talking. Red dropped his cup. “Zim, you’re alive?”

He didn’t sound excited. He didn’t look excited either and neither did Purple. It was almost like they hadn’t expected, hadn’t wanted his survival. Why did that make sense?

Zim watched numbly as the screen played transmission after transmission. GIR came in from the outside sometime later, smiling and covered in blood. His metal top was torn open. “Had enough of your pug stink, GIR?” He’d been launching the creature for hours and there were no less than three holes in the ceiling because of it.

GIR giggled. “Its insides look pretty.”

“You’re useless,” Zim said. A real SIR unit would spend its time doing something constructive instead of breaking its head opened to launch a stupid flesh creature into the air.

A real SIR unit would destroy Zim on the spot for his defects. GIR had tried to after Zim fixed his chip. “You were right, you know. I’m useless. Defective.” Zim glanced at the screen. Purple stepped back, body turned away as Red glared Zim’s way. His past self must’ve said something wrong. “I should’ve let you kill me.”

“Yay!” GIR bounced off the walls. “I was right! I was riiiiiiiight! I was right. I WAS RIGHT.”

Zim shrunk. He wanted to believe GIR was too stupid to know what he was saying, but Zim knew better. GIR didn’t care about him. No one did.

Zim curled up, shoving his face into the back of the couch. GIR continued screaming, unbothered and undeterred, about his rightness.

The puppet image of his Tallest burned the back of Zim’s eyelids. Back on Irk, he’d face public execution for his crimes. He’d just have to settle for the next best thing.

* * *

It didn’t take long for Zim to realize what the Earth equivalent to a public execution was. It did, however, take him several days to get off the couch.

In his numbness, he hadn’t noticed the time passing. Not until GIR asked why Zim wasn’t fixing him, because Zim always fixed him and he usually did it unprompted. It was then that Zim noticed GIR was still covered in now-dry blood, his head still torn opened.

Zim stood. Red and Purple were still playing on the screen, their voices occasionally sprinkling the air. He’d watched the compilation back to back at least five times by now. It was time to avenge them.

Zim shut it off, leaving a stale quiet in its absents. “Come, GIR. I’ve neglected you long enough.”

He led GIR outside not even bothering with their disguises. It was night and they were just feet away from their front door. Besides, it’d been hard enough for Zim to walk out of the house knowing where his self destined fate was taking him. Part of him wanted someone to challenge him for skipping the contacts.

Zim gathered the hose, pausing when he noticed a lump of blood and bone in the yard. GIR’s pug thing. “Are you trying to blow our cover,” Zim asked. It’d been there for days. The neighbors had probably already seen it.

“Mayyyyybeeee,” GIR said.

Zim sprayed him down while the robot laughed about it tickling. He could leave GIR home to his own devices, which would most definitely attract unwanted attention, or he could force the robot to accompany him to hell. The later guaranteed both of them misery. GIR hadn’t done anything to deserve that.

Squeaky clean, they headed down to the lab next. GIR’s head was a common and quick fix, but Zim took his time wielding the new metal into shape. “I won’t be around to fix you anymore, so make this one last okay, GIR?”

GIR pouted. “Couch?”

Zim sighed. “The couch is all yours. I won’t be using it.”

“Yay!”

Zim shook his head. He knew from experience that GIR’s unbroken state would last a few weeks at most. That the repairs were useless in the larger scheme of things and that there wasn’t a point in bothering with them. But Zim couldn’t bring himself to leave GIR while he was damaged.

* * *

Zim strode purposefully towards Dib’s house, the night sounds calming him. Earth was a terrible, scummy planet, but the smooth, constant chirping of nocturnal Earth critters almost redeemed it. He clicked along with them, the sound rising from deep inside his chest.

He arrived way too soon. He already knew the exact window to use, but he walked the perimeter twice before he scaled the house with his PAK legs and open the window to Dib’s room. It wasn’t even locked.

Zim retracted his mechanical limbs as he looked around. Pale, glowing green shapes littered the walls and ceiling. They made it easier to make out Dib laying sans glasses on a flattened couch, a fabric cacoon restraining him. They also helped Zim locate the switch.

The human groaned as light flooded the room.

“Dim stink!”

He squirmed deeper into his coverings, so Zim tore them away.

Dib shot up in chase them, squinting in his direction. “Zim?”

“Silence! Where are the alien handcuffs?”

Dib crawled towards his headboard, hand searching the nightstand for his glasses. He shoved them onto his face once found, then wrapped his arms around himself. “Damnit, Zim, it’s fall. If you’re gonna break in the least you could do is close the window!”

Zim hopped onto the mattress and leaned over him, fists tight. If he could just appear more threatening than he felt. “The handcuffs! Put them on me.”

Dib stood to match him. He was only a few inches taller than Zim, but he used it, the twerp. “Why? What’s going on?”

“What does it look like? I’m turning myself in.”

His eyes bulged. “What?”

Always with the questions. As much as he hated to lose the height, Zim hopped down and began searching the room for himself. He stuck his head under the bed. “Yes, yes, you win. You’ve bested the almighty Zim. Congratulations.” Not there. Not under the desk. He opened a dresser drawer and shuffled through the fabrics inside.

Dib shoved himself between Zim and the dresser. “It’s not in there!”

“Then why are you protecting it?”

“Get out of my room!”

Zim reached over his enemy, blindly grabbing as Dib forced him back. “Give me the cuffs!”

Dib pushed the drawer closed with his back, nearly pinching Zim’s fingers. “Look, even if I wanted to turn you in I can’t right now. Everyone who’d want to dissect you is asleep.”

Cursed humans with their cursed sleep schedules. “Wake them up. I demand dissection!”

Dib put his hand on his hip. “Really. You want to be locked in a small dark room? You want scientists cutting into you every other day, no anesthesia? You want to be in pain for the rest of your existence?”

Zim’s antennae flattened against his head. “Silence.” A low, nervous click resonated from his chest cavity. He couldn’t think about that right now. Not when he was fully capable of escaping. Zim clenched his jaw. “The Dib needs no explanation! You should want to hurt Zim on principle.”

“Oh, I do,” Dib said. “But last time I tried to out you as an alien the whole thing backfired. This is all probably some elaborate plot to get me to let my guard down and I’m not falling for it!”

“There is no plot,” Zim said. “I deserve it! I doomed my Tallest! I...” His lower lip trembled. “I. The florpus hole, they...” Zim screamed, kicking the nearest wall. “Zim is stupid and defective and worthless! Just end me already!”

Dib backed into the dresser. “Zim—“

Gaz hammered on the wall. “Shut up and go to bed!”

Dib winced. “Sorry, Gaz!”

Zim slipped to the ground, legs too weak to support his body. Pathetic. “I deserve far worse than your Earthly methods of torture. It is merciful compared to what they’d do to me on Irk.” If Zim were braver, he’d seek trial from his own people, but it’d been hard enough to leave the couch and come here to Dib’s. He would deflect. He just knew he would before he reached the nearest Irken.

Besides, no one knew exactly what happened to his Tallest. They had vanished into a florpus, a whole fleet of Irken soldiers. No one would trace it back to Zim. No one would drag him to trial if they even remembered him at all. He was free to do whatever he wanted. It was too much freedom.

Dib gave him a wide berth, gingerly sitting on his bed. “Okaaaaaaay.” Dib’s brow was wrinkled in a worried way. “Let me get this straight. You killed your Tallest. Accidentally.”

Zim stared Dib in the eyes as he nodded.

Dib huffed. “That’s heavy, man.” He glanced at his backpack. “I’ll cuff you, okay? We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Zim nodded again. Dib retrieved his backpack with slow, careful movements, fishing the cuffs out. Then he looked around. “I’m gonna put one on you and the other on the leg of my bed, okay?”

Zim scowled. “Stop talking to Zim like... that.”

“Sorry,” Dib said, sounding a bit more normal. “You put a hole in my wall.”

Oh. Zim glanced behind him to admire the dented plaster and splinted wood.

“Give me your arm.”

Zim did as instructed. The cuff tightened around his wrist. He had to scoot away from the wall so Dib could cuff him to the bed. It wouldn’t hold if Zim wanted to escape, but it made him feel better.

Dib turned the light off and crawled into bed. Zim staring at the glowing shapes. He could still hear the night sounds.

“Dib thing?”

“What?”

“Check on GIR every once in a while after you turn me in. His stupidity could blow up a planet if left unchecked.”

“So could yours,” Dib shot back.

Zim stilled.

“Sorry. That was...”

“You aren’t incorrect, human.” Zim was pretty sure something like that had happened before. He wasn’t the most cognitive Irken in existence.

Silence followed. Dib was snoring soon enough, but Zim didn’t fall asleep. Irken bodies didn’t require much of it and Zim’s mind was too active to even attempt such a peaceful state.

* * *

As time passed, more birds than bugs began to sing. While he preferred the later, and the bird songs meant he was closer to his doom, they were nice too. Through the window they’d never closed, the sky brightened and colored with smears of purple. Another thing Zim appreciated about the planet was its sky. He’d seen far more beautiful ones, of course, but they’d never been his. And the Earth was his.

An alarm blared, jolting Zim as he looked around for what could possibly be malfunctioning in a house that wasn’t advanced enough to walk. The sound was emanating from a clock with flashing numbers.

The time had come.

Dib stirred, hitting it until the noise stopped. Instead of leaving the bed and confronting Zim, the human curled back into the covers as if the warnings were nothing to be concerned with.

Zim should be grateful for the extra time allotted to him, but if the house was about to explode... dying before the torture would be a mercy, but Zim wasn’t ready to die at all. “Dib stink.”

“Mm.”

Zim yanked at the covers. Dib tightened his body around them and glared Zim’s way.

“Are we exploding?”

“What?”

“The alarm.”

Dib groaned. “We aren’t exploding. It wants me to get up for school.”

Oh. Zim stared at the ceiling again. The shapes were dimmer, now, due to the rising sun.

Dib dragged the blanket with him to cross the room and close the window. “You feeling any better?”

Zim crossed his arms. Or tried to. The cuffs didn’t let him fully tuck his hand in. “What do you mean by that?”

Dib stared down at him. Zim tried to stand to his full height, but the cuff yanked him into a slouch.

Dib cracked a smile. “Never mind. It’s nothing.” The alarm blared again. Dib switched it off but stayed wrapped in his blankets. “You have your disguise?”

“Why?”

“School starts in an hour. You know, that place you haven’t been to in forever because you were busy being a toilet?”

Zim sat back down. “Aren’t you suppose to reveal me to the world or something?”

“After school,” Dib said. “I can’t skip class. Dad’s actually been home since he finished his world peace project. He’ll actually answer if the school calls.” Dib put his glasses on and pressed a button on the handcuff’s remote. They fell opened.

Zim’s jaw dropped. “What is the meaning of this!”

“We’re going to school,” Dib said. “You’ve only missed a few days of the new year, so—“

“You don’t understand,” Zim shouted. “You can’t uncuff me. I’ll escape.”

“I’m not taking you to school in cuffs.”

“School doesn’t matter anymore! I’m... my mission is pointless.”

Dib frowned. “Look, I get it, okay? Not the guilty for murder part, but.” He glanced at his desk. All the screens that showed Zim’s base and paranormal videos and internet blogs. “When you stopped showing up at school mid-April, I... wasn’t in a good place, but I still had to go to school. I still ate breakfast at the table and I still bathed and I still went outside. And then it was summer and I didn’t have a reason to do that stuff anymore.

“So I’m not gonna let you sit in a pile and think yourself to death. We both know you’re capable of escaping those cuffs, anyways, so there really isn’t a point in keeping you here.”

Zim scowled. “Fine.” He pulled his wig and contacts out of his PAK and put them in place. He was more likely to escape if left on his own anyway. “But after school.”

Dib collected a shirt from his closet. “Go downstairs and get some breakfast. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

Zim tilted his head as Dib collected a pair of pants and tossed the cuffs into his backpack. Zim was Dib’s prisoner and he wanted Zim out of his sight?

Dib walked passed Zim and dug through his dresser. “At least go in the hallway so I can change.”

Zim blinked. “Change? Are you going to morph into a chair goblin again?”

“Clothes, Zim. I can’t go to school in pajamas.”

Dib was wearing something different than his usual outfit. Zim stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. What an odd human ritual.

Down the hall, a door opened and Gaz exited her room. “What’re you staring at,” she asked.

Had Zim been staring? “Uh.”

She headed down the stairs without pause. Was Zim suppose to follow? Dib had told him to get nourishment from the downstairs portion of the house. Zim inched towards the staircase, stopping at the top step. There were voices down there. Gaz and Dib’s Dad, they were having a conversation.

“I thought about it and I want a dirt bike for my birthday,” Gaz said. “You don’t have to be 16 like you do with motorcycles. Anyone can drive a dirt bike.”

Membrane hummed. “I’ll be sure to fact check that, but that sounds like a great compromise.”

“I have this magazine. I was thinking purple or pink.”

Zim went halfway down the stairs and leaned over the banister. Both of them were looking over the dirt bike magazine, Gaz pointing out the ones she liked while Membrane nodded along. All his attention was on her and her words.

Zim swallowed the lump in his throat. It was rare his Tallest gave him such regards, but it had happened a handful of times. There’d been a conversation they had that lasted longer than their usual ones about humans being both stupid and tall. Their doubtful amazement had had them leaning towards the screen and looking at him with wonder.

Dib trotted down the stairs. “I’d tell you to act normal, but Dad still thinks the whole florpus thing was some weird dream. You could probably take your disguise off in front of him and he’d explain it away with science.” Dib grabbed him by the wrist and pull him into the kitchen. “That’s Foodio over there. Tell them what you can and can’t eat and they’ll figure something out.”

“I’m not hungry,” Zim said

Membrane, who’d been leaning on the table, straightened up. He was just as tall if not taller than the Tallest. Zim shrunk back, which was ridiculous. Membrane was human. His height shouldn’t matter, but Zim couldn’t help but take it into account.

Membrane looked at them. “Dib, you didn’t tell me we had a guest.”

“He showed up late last night. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Dib went to sit at the table, dragging Zim passed Membrane. This was the man who’d be doing the experiments, wasn’t it? The man who would torture him after school. Why wait until after school when he was standing right there?

Dib let go of Zim’s wrist and sat in a chair. There was already bacon and eggs and toast on the table. Gaz was digging in, but Membrane was standing over her. Examining the magazine like it was important.

Zim gripped the back of Dim’s chair, eyes wide. “You aren’t planning on turning me in, are you.” He said it at a normal volume. Gaz and Membrane looked up.

Dib looked between Zim and his Dad. “Uh.”

Zim bared his teeth. “Why? I am Zim! You’re supposed to end me!” A wig. Contacts. That’s all his disguise was. It’d be easy enough to take them off right now in front of Membrane. Easy enough.

Zim brought a trembling hand to the top of his wig and squeezed his eyes shut. One yank. One good yank was all he needed. Dib wasn’t even trying to stop him.

A moment passed. Membrane cleared his throat. “Is he alright?”

“He’s grieving,” Dib explained. “His real parents died a few days ago.”

Zim let go of his wig. “They weren’t my parents you useless worm-baby!” If Dib wouldn’t help him, he’d find someone who would. GIR in SIR mode wouldn’t even hesitate to rip off his PAK. It should’ve been Zim’s first option.

Zim stormed out of the house. Dib called after him, feet close behind, so Zim threw the door back in Dib’s face. It did nothing to slow the human down. “Leave Zim alone!”

“No!” Dib pounced on him, knocking Zim into the grass. Zim rolled onto his back to give his legs proper leverage for kicking. Dib dodged, taking hold of Zim’s shoulders.

“Go home,” Zim shouted. “Go home to your stupid family and your stupid food and your stupid tallness!”

Dib pinned Zim’s legs with his. “Look, I get you’re going through something, but running away and... and burying yourself in a nacho cheese cocoon won’t help.”

“What do you care? I’m just a stupid defective trash thing!” Zim curled into himself. A sad, useless attempt to hide his tears. “I destroyed my Tallest by being stupid and I don’t even have the nerve to execute myself. What kind of Irken invader am I?”

Dib’s weight left his legs. Zim rolled onto his side and shoved his face into the dirt, crying harder.

Dib sat cross-legged in the grass. He patted Zim’s PAK. “A pretty lousy one, I’d say. I’m sorta thankful for that, though.”

“Of course you are,” Zim grumbled. “My incompetence is what keeps you and your precious planet safe.”

“Do you even want to destroy the Earth anymore? I mean, your Tallest never wanted it and you don’t seem to get anything out of it. What’s the point?”

Zim shrugged. “Is that why you won’t reveal me? You think humanity’s safe from the likes of Zim?”

Dib scoffed. “What’s humanity ever done for me? No, see, there’s this pesky human trait called compassion. Maybe if I had exercised it earlier... not that I’m taking the blame for your mistakes, cause that was all you, but. I don’t know, you were depressed and I took advantage of that.”

“That’s what enemies do, is it not?”

“Well, yeah,” Dib admitted. “But you’re also the only one at school who even remotely likes me. Besides, I’m starting to think some people are better off in the dark, you know? Like my Dad. The evidence was right in front of his face, but he insisted it was all some stupid dream. Maybe he needs that to stay sane or whatever.”

Zim hummed. Maybe he’d been better off in the dark. Maybe the Tallest would still be alive if he’d never found out about their true feelings towards him. Or maybe if he’d been a little less oblivious...

“My point,” Dib said, “is that letting humans torture you won't bring them back.”

Zim sat up. His face was both wet and dirty. He tried to wipe it off with his shirt. “I don’t know what else to do,” Zim said. “I was only supposed to be here for a few years at most. Now...”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dib said.

“We?”

Dib bit his lip. “I mean, yeah, if you want my help. It was pretty boring with you gone, so. And all those space battles and robot fights, those were pretty awesome. We can still do that for fun.”

Zim’s immediate thought was that he didn’t deserve fun, but the idea of it was appealing. The idea of Dib keeping him company was appealing. “Okay, Dib Stink. I accept your offer of help on one condition.”

“That’s not really how it—“

“Let me know when I’m being Earth-ending stupid.” Being oblivious to consequences, that’s where his problems started. If listening to Dib of all people minimized those problems...

A taunting smile cracked across Dib’s face. “I think I can manage that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been obsessively writing this for the past few days (maybe even the past week?) instead of doing college work and/or sleeping. Comments are always appreciated. I hope I made you feel emotions.


End file.
